


Room Six

by gildedfrost



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Anonymous Sex, Blow Jobs, Glory Hole, M/M, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Strap-Ons, Trans Hank Anderson, Trans Male Character, Vanity, cum kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-14 22:02:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21022958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gildedfrost/pseuds/gildedfrost
Summary: Connor's at a glory hole when he gets a call from Hank.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Convin version: [Room Seven](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19995988/chapters/47344042)

Connor moans quietly around the cock in his mouth, bobbing his head along its length. He can feel its texture against his lips, tongue, cheeks; taste the skin and the precum, a mix of tastes and chemicals that his mind identifies and categorizes but which, in the moment, only exist as a singular experience for him, alone in this room except for the cock stuck through the hole in the wall.

He palms himself through his clothes, his own dick achingly hard and straining against his pants. They’re dress pants today; he’d dressed up for a meeting, putting on slacks instead of his usual jeans, and now the fabric at the knees chafing as he kneels on the floor. The top buttons on his shirt are undone, his collarbones tantalizingly displayed--a view with only himself as witness, watching himself with a cock between his lips in the mirror on the wall. 

It’s a relief to see himself debauched in this way. His manicured hair, usually perfect down to the strand, is tousled in a mess that’s part intentional and part incidental. A pink flush touches his cheeks, but more stark is the intermittent glitch in his skin, patches of white flowing like fish through water across his body, gone as quickly as they come. His charcoal grey jacket fits his form well, and cum clings to the end of his left sleeve. His tie hangs loosely, having been freed from its clip, and it’s lax around his neck, settled at an odd angle. He could so easily take it off, but there’s something about the look that he doesn’t want to let go of, meeting his own half-lidded eyes as the slick cock thrusts into his mouth, a mix of his own spit and fluids leaking onto his lips and chin. 

This isn’t the first cock he’s had this evening. Remnants of other men’s spend decorate his face and his clothes, dampening his shirt and pants and making even his jacket inappropriate to wear outside this room. There’s even a bit stuck in his hair; he hasn’t fixed it yet and he’s not sure he wants to.

He pulls back, mouth popping off the cock, a thick strand of artificial saliva bridging the gap between it and his lips. The head is thick and swollen, a deep red that could be almost purple, and he laves his tongue over the tip, delighting in the hushed moans and twitches from the other side. 

The pressure in his pants is too much, he thinks, pressing down on his cock as he takes the other man’s all the way in one quick motion, nose bumping against the wall. It’s enough; the stranger comes with a gasp, his thick cum coating Connor’s tongue, cock pulsing and balls throbbing. Connor groans, stroking his own cock through the fabric with enough pressure to almost be painful while he laps at the other man’s length.

The stranger pulls back once he’s had enough, slipping back out from the hole in the wall. The absence is a shame, but Connor makes do, rubbing and stroking with varying speed and intensity, but keeping it aggressive enough to push himself to the edge. He teases himself only a little, watching in the mirror as his hips twitch and cock shifts, mouth half-open with cum sticky and thick in his mouth, strands threaded between his lips. Both hands are on his length now, fingertips gliding feather-light across the fabric as he builds up once more, chasing himself to his release.

He comes with a groan, keeping his eyes open to watch himself, body undulating slowly. He lets go, eyeing his cock in the mirror as it twitches, the bulge in his pants drawing his gaze easily. The cum wets the fabric and he moans at the mix of sensations on his overstimulated cock, the hot slickness and rough cotton exquisitely painful as he rides the high. His head tilts slightly and cum oozes out from his mouth, but he closes and swallows, licking his lips.

“Connor?”

He jerks himself upright, spine stiff but still kneeling, startled at the voice. “Yes?” he says, senses coming back slowly, and he realizes the person talking isn’t here.

It’s a phone call.

A brief review reveals that he accepted a phone call ten seconds ago from Lieutenant Hank Anderson.

He clears his throat. “Lieutenant Anderson. I apologize, I was distracted by some processes. Did you need something?” Part of him cringes at the words; he’s the most advanced android prototype out there, a simple process wouldn’t distract him. 

On the other hand, he definitely, one hundred percent was too distracted by his orgasm to realize he had answered a call.

“Come on, you can just call me Hank.” He can almost hear the lieutenant’s sigh. “So, we haven’t really talked much since you’ve been out and about with Jericho, and I thought it’d be nice to hang out a bit sometime. I don’t know what your schedule’s like, but if you’re free, there’s this new café by the river I was thinking of checking out. I think they’ve even got something for androids there.”

Connor undoes his belt, pushing the buckle aside to unzip his pants and drip his hand down, fingers scooping up some of his cum. It’s a bit of a mess, but at least the pants are black. Underwear could have helped in this situation if he had bothered to wear any, but then again, all of his clothes are already ruined. A bit of a shame, but it’s not the first time he’s failed to hold himself back. “This evening?” he asks, switching to communicating internally as he brings his fingers to his lips; it frees up his mouth and keeps anyone from eavesdropping. He swipes his tongue across his fingers, tasting himself. “It sounds interesting. Thirium or not, I should be able to drink what they have. I’d like to check the place out sometime, but I’m not sure if I’ll have the chance tonight.”

The door to the other room clicks open. Another stranger enters.

“Busy night?”

“I’ve been busy politicking most of the day, as you might say. I’m taking some time to unwind.” He stands then, toeing off his shoes before bending down for his socks. They both get placed neatly on the small bench in the room, and he takes a minute to move the only other piece of furniture--a table about waist height--closer to the hole. “How have you been lately?”

“Good, pretty good. I’m getting along. Work’s going better than it has in a while. I think Jeffrey even smiled at me the other day, but he’d swear he hasn’t cracked a smile all year, you know? Sorry I haven’t called recently.”

Connor pauses. He can hear the stranger’s zipper in the other room and the movements as he starts to warm up. “It’s fine. I get so caught up in everything I lose track of time. One minute I’m meeting with a senator, the next summer’s come and gone.”

“How about yourself? Everything good, taking care of yourself?”

He resumes undressing, shedding his jacket and folding it neatly, brushing off a couple globs of cum. He sets it aside before starting on the rest of his buttons, watching himself as he reveals more of his smooth skin, intermittent freckles dotting the surface. His pants sag with the lack of belt and zipper support and he can see his flaccid dick slowly start to harden again. “I’m doing well enough.” He runs a hand down his torso before slowly divesting himself of his shirt and tie, once again placed neatly on the bench.

“Well enough, huh?”

The stranger’s cock finally shows through the hole. Connor shimmies out of his pants and sets them aside, mindful of the mess. “I suspect my standards as an android may be different from yours.” He grabs the bottle of lube and clicks open the cap, pouring a generous dollop onto his hand. 

The stranger twitches and makes a small sound as he takes him in hand, slowly working his hand along his length. He builds to a steady pace, twisting his wrist at regular intervals as he works to bring the man to full hardness.

“Do those standards include hanging out with people?”

“More or less,” Connor says, still communicating internally. It may be a bit odd to talk with his coworker while in this situation, but then again, humans talk or text on their phones in all sorts of circumstances, so he doesn’t dedicate much thought to it, and feels no shame or guilt at all as he turns himself around, bends forward, and guides the stranger’s slick cock to his ass, leaning forward with his forearms against the small table he moved there earlier.

He bites his lip, holding back a moan as the head slips in and the rest follows. He presses backwards until his ass is flush against the wall, stranger buried in him to the hilt. The mirror isn’t as good for this, but he can catch glimpses of the cock as his body moves. His chest shines with cum that dripped down past his collar from earlier blowjobs.

“Alright. I just want to make sure, you know?”

Connor raises an eyebrow, a pretty pointless movement in this scenario but one that is interrupted nonetheless as a thrust hits a particularly good spot. He lets out a breathy gasp, mouth wide open, and he can see his cock is once again at full attention, red and throbbing between his legs. “Not really,” he says. “Why?”

“You’ve got a tendency to overwork yourself,” Hank says. “I get it, you’re dedicated, but we all need a break sometime. I see a lot of people do that: They say they’re taking the time to relax, but really, they’re just chatting about work with the same people they work with off the clock, or they’re still focusing on that instead of taking a break. I know we haven’t seen each other much, but… well, you were there for me, and I want to make sure I’m there for you, too.”

“That’s fair.” Connor mutes his vocal processors just in time, groaning silently and burying his head against the table as the other man picks up the pace and pounds into him relentlessly. His mind feels full of static, blissfully blank. “I’d like to see you again, too. Sure. Good idea.” Somehow his internally generated voice only sounds slightly strained.

“Are you free tonight, or were you thinking some other time? I can drive us.”

Connor’s head rests against his arms, mindlessly watching himself in the mirror as he gets fucked, his aching cock swaying in time beneath him and his balls feeling heavy. “Sounds good,” he says, distracted, He reaches down with a still-lubed hand to stroke his cock and moans again; it’s still silent, but he can feel the vibration in his chest and against the table. He bites his forearm to try and keep some semblance of control.

“Connor?”

He blinks, dazed. “Yeah?”

“Where you at? I’ll come pick you up, unless you wanted to catch a cab.”

“Oh.” He sends the address automatically. “Room six, adjacent five.”

“Great. I’ll be there shortly.”

“Uh-huh. Bye.” Connor hangs up and reenables his vocalizer, shaky gasps and moans escaping immediately. He steadies his feet against the floor and grips at the edge of the table, little _ah, ah, ahs _escaping him as the combined sensation of the cock inside him and of his hand push him over, hips stuttering as he spills into his own hand. The other man groans as his ass tightens and comes after a few more thrusts, his cum filling Connor before he pulls out. 

“Ohhhh.” Connor stays there, grinning lazily at his reflection and staying there for a few minutes as he sets his processes in order, some of them having glitched in the past half hour. Cum drips out from his ass and off his hand, dripping down his thigh and to the floor. 

A sigh passes his lips and he stands up again, stretching broadly. It takes him a minute to settle his mind and another two before he’s on his knees, sucking another cock and watching his reflection, eyeing the cum dripping down his thighs. He feels good. He feels _great. _He feels…

Oh.

Shit.

Yep. That’s definitely a text he sent to Hank, listing the address to this place. 

_Fuck._


	2. Chapter 2

Connor considers calling Hank back, but chances are good that he’d be here before Connor could even get himself decent even if he told him to wait for him elsewhere. He’s surprised Hank hasn’t made it here yet, but he could show up any minute now. 

He crouches before the mirror as if looking at himself will give him any sense of stability as his nerves threaten to tip him over, but he can’t hold his own stern look while he’s naked, spit on his lips and a mix of cum and lube dripping down his thighs, chest painted with cum from the last two blowjobs he gave, against his better judgment.

He doesn’t look like a man about to spend time with his coworker.

Standing with a quiet groan, he runs a hand through his hair and sighs, glancing at his neatly folded pile of clothes. Cleaning up and dressing up would be the responsible course of action in this situation but he’s reluctant to do so. He has the room for another hour still. Even his cock’s still interested, starting to grow hard again in anticipation, a function he can’t disable easily and which apparently isn’t tempered by nerves. 

Hank’s going to walk in this place and see exactly what he gets up to. 

That thought makes his dick twitch and he bites his lip. As nervous as he is, the thought of the lieutenant seeing him here like this--a sex-hungry, fucked out mess of a man--is definitely doing something for him.

He runs a hand down his length and pauses, still uncertain about what to do with Hank. He composes a text, deletes it, then types it again, shaking his head before deciding not to send anything. If he’s uncomfortable, he’ll leave and text Connor back.

If he’s not uncomfortable, he’ll assume Connor’s propositioning him. There’s a good chance, at least, and Connor can’t say he’s too averse to the idea. The lieutenant did say he wanted to spend time together in some capacity, didn’t he? It’s not Connor’s usual way of going about things, but he’s good at improvising.

Or making excuses to not get dressed right this moment.

He sighs and stands, grabbing his shirt and wrinkling his nose at the damp patches. Based on what he knows of Hank, he estimates that the other man will neither leave him here nor be interested in any sexual activities with him no matter how eagerly his mind latches onto that idea. Despite his sometimes rough personality, Hank wouldn’t just ditch him here and it would be rude of either of them to bail. Heading out for drinks is a good idea even if their initial meeting will be awkward.

Connor buttons up his shirt, leaving the top three buttons undone, and puts on his tie loosely. He picks up his jacket and purses his lips, mourning the end of his evening and reluctant to put it back on, when the door to the next room opens.

Booted footsteps sound as the stranger enters. He checks the time quickly and finds that, based on Hank’s most likely range of travel for leisure from what he knows of him, he may have another ten or so minutes until he arrives, assuming a standard amount of traffic.

Ten minutes could be enough time, but he shouldn’t press his luck. Not even if the thought of Hank walking in on him taking a cock in his mouth makes him throb.

“I’m finishing early, sorry,” Connor calls, glancing towards the hole in the wall. “You’ll need to find another room.”

The footsteps move to the side, where Connor knows the table with toys is. Maybe the guy’s getting a feel for the place.

Connor shakes his head, folding and setting down his jacket to glare at his pants. That wet patch is really going to be an inconvenience now, he thinks, hearing as the stranger exits the next room.

Then there’s a knock at the door to room six.

Now that’s definitely rude. 

Connor puts on the sternest expression he can and opens the door, not minding his own nudity. “I told you, I…”

His wide eyes meet the other man’s and the rest of the words die in his throat.

It’s Hank.

His face is a mix of surprise and intrigue. “Holy shit,” he says, eyes widening. He glances downward before settling on Connor’s face. “I didn’t think you’d actually be here.”

“What?” 

Hank clears his throat. “I mean, I thought you might be out the front or something, but, uh, I wasn’t really aware of your extracurriculars. Didn’t think you’d be in here, you know? I’m not about to pass judgement or anything, I’m just…”

Connor steps back from the door. “In or out, Hank. It’s impolite to be naked in the hall.”

He steps in. Connor doesn’t miss the glance at the mess on the floor, nor the subsequent look he gets at his backside and thighs. His face is pink. “So let me get this straight. You--”

“I accepted your call while I was otherwise occupied.”

Hank looks meaningfully at the hole in the wall. “Occupied.”

Connor sighs and leans against the door. “Yes, occupied. I was getting fucked. I’m sorry, actually,” he says, biting his lip. “I didn’t intend to invite you here. You asked where I was and I answered without thinking. My mind was elsewhere.”

“So you didn’t invite me here to have sex with you, is what you’re saying.” Hank’s face has a neutral expression, but his heart rate is elevated and his pupils are dilated. They’re clear signs of anxiety, but Connor pauses. It doesn’t necessarily mean Hank is nervous. His previous curious glances may have held some interest as well.

When he glances down and sees the bulge in Hank’s pants, he gains a lot more confidence.

Connor licks his lips, watching as Hank’s eyes follow his tongue. “My plans aren’t set in stone.”

He gets a hesitant grin in return and his own nerves settle. “You sure?” Hank asks, scratching his beard. “I mean, we were planning on hanging out, but this isn’t a typical place for it.”

“The bar will still be open in an hour. We’ll have plenty of time.” Connor takes a few hesitant steps forward, heat creeping down his spine at the proximity to Hank, and he’s suddenly very aware of his half-dressed state. He rests a hand against the hollow of Hank’s neck, looking up at him. “It’s been a while since I’ve fucked a man in the same room. Are you interested?”

His eyes darken. “What do your scans tell you?”

He steps closer and the two of them are flush against each other, chest to filthy chest. The denim of Hank’s jeans is rough against his cock. He rests a hand against Hank’s cheek, running a thumb over the rough skin. “Tell me what you want,” he says, voice low and rough. “I can read your face, but I still need you to speak your mind.”

“I want to fuck you.” Hank puts a hand on the back of his neck and pulls him in, closing the distance between them. The kiss is rough and hungry, messy and uncoordinated. 

It’s exactly what kissing Hank Anderson should be like.

Connor drags his teeth across Hank’s lower lip as they part, the sight of his swollen lips stirring him to full hardness again. He reaches down, maintaining eye contact as he palms Hank’s crotch, feeling the shape of his sizeable dick. “In a place like this, after other men have already had me?”

Hank grinds gently against his hand. “I’m almost disappointed I missed out on all that, but now I’ve got you under my hands, I don’t think I care.” He runs a finger through the spend on Connor’s face. “They made you look delectable.”

He chuckles and undoes Hank’s belt, walking him backwards until his back is against the wall. The buckles sags with a _clink_ and he wastes no time dragging down the zipper. Mouth to Hank’s neck, he licks a line down Hank’s throat and listens to his quiet moan, then dips his hand into his jeans to stroke his cock through his underwear, letting out his own moan at the size of it. 

He can’t wait to have it inside of him.

Hank takes his hand after a few strokes and Connor raises an eyebrow. “Is everything alright?”

“It’s fine, Con. I’m just interested in a little adjustment.”

“An adjustment?” Connor asks. Hank guides his hand inside his underwear and to the base of his cock, where his hand meets fabric. He slips his fingers behind the fabric, sliding them downwards until his fingertips find slick flesh. “Oh.”

Hank lets out a pleased sigh. “If you’re gonna be feeling me up, why not start with my real cock?” he growls.

“Sounds like a plan.” The angle is difficult, what with the harness Hank’s wearing, but he manages to angle his fingers successfully and rub him with the pressure and speed he thinks will deliver the most favorable results, testing his strokes a couple of times before settling into a demanding rhythm.

The response is immediate. Hank lets out a choked moan, bucking his hips forward and opening his mouth as he tips his head upwards, giving Connor better access to his neck. He holds onto Connor with one hand, the other pressed against Connor’s hip for leverage, gripping him tightly. The whimpers he makes at the stimulation are delicious as Connor’s hand keeps up its relentless pace, feeling Hank’s cock hard and throbbing with every stroke. 

“How’s this, Hank?” 

“This is great.” Hank moans, looking dazed. “Fuck.”

He smiles and nips at Hank’s neck, leaving little marks. “Do you want to come likes this?”

“Yes.” His grip tightens. “Jesus Christ, yes.”

“Tell me, babe. Tell me what you want.”

“Make me come. I want you to make me come.”

Connor obliges. He dips his head to suck at Hank’s collarbone and keeps his hand moving, keeping pressure on Hank’s cock despite the lack of friction from his slick. Hank stiffens beneath him with a low groan. Connor grins, feeling him twitching beneath his hand, keeping up the movement all the way until he feels Hank shift as it becomes too much for him.

“You look gorgeous like this,” Connor whispers, lips against his ear. His cock is hard against Hank’s thigh. “And I haven’t even taken off your clothes yet.”

Hank laughs. It’s a breathy sound, tired in the sort of way that sounds content and satisfied. “Place like this, I’m not sure I should, no matter how clean it is.”

“Hm.” The only furniture they have are the table, bench, and mirror. As good as Hank would look without clothes, this isn’t the ideal place. “Maybe another time. Are you planning to make good on your promise?” he asks, eyes darting down to Hank’s bulge and back to his face as he pops his wet fingers in his mouth, languidly sucking off the slick.

“I’m not about to make a promise I can’t keep,” Hank says, still breathless. “Just give me a sec to catch my breath.”

“I’ll give you plenty of secs,” Connor says with a wink, stepping back as Hank stands without the support of the wall, and Hank laughs. “Table or wall?” Connor asks, eyeing the table. The bench is out; he really shouldn’t make his jacket or pants any filthier.

He watches as Hank slowly takes in the rest of the room, settling on one of the walls. “Mirror.”

The word goes straight to his dick. “_Oh_.”

“As long as you’re down for it.”

Connor turns as Hank unzips his pants, letting his huge, hard packer flop out from his jeans, his belt having been set on the bench. He closes the distance between them and grabs Hank by the collar. “I want you to fuck me against the mirror, Hank.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He lets go and snaps up the bottle of lube from beside the hole in the wall, walking backwards until his back is flush against the glass. Hank’s on him in an instant, kissing him hungrily and palming his hard cock, already wet with precum.

Connor gasps quietly. He pours lube onto his hand and begins stroking Hank’s cock, but before long Hank’s pushing at his shoulders to turn him around.

He braces himself against the mirror, one hand on the glass and the other on the wall beside it. His breath is too dry to fog it up but he sees himself as his eyes flutter when Hank starts fingering him, two fingers pushing into his tight ass.

“How many men have come in you already?” Hank asks, breath hot against the back of his neck. He pulls his fingers out and pushes the head of his cock against Connor’s hole. “How many guys have you had today, yesterday, last week? How much of a slut are you, Connor?”

Connor moans, pushing himself backwards, but it doesn’t go in. “Fuck me. I need you to fuck me.”

“You’re not even going to ask nicely?”

“Please fuck me, Hank. I need your cock.”

Finally he slides in. Connor gasps, quickly and smoothly taking him all the way to the hilt and feeling so full. It’s not the longest he’s taken, but it might just be the thickest. “Fuck,” Connor breathes. 

Hank moves his hips slowly, keeping a steady pace as the two of them watch Connor in the mirror, cheek pressed against the glass and hand gripping the frame. He breathes heavily despite not needing to breathe, overwhelmed by the sensation and looking like a complete mess. Hank slips a hand under his half-undone shirt to feel his navel and stomach, moving up further through drying flecks of cum to trace the artificial muscles on his chest and brush over his nipples, shirt riding up in the process. His tie hangs down, loose, and he didn’t think he’d ever look this good getting fucked in front of a mirror with half his work clothes still on.

The slow pace is sensual and intoxicating, but when Hank speeds up, his mind blanks. “Yes,” he says. “Yes, like that, please.” Each thrust makes his cock bounce. The pace feels great as the texture slides against his walls, a beautiful friction that he can’t get enough of--especially not when Hank angles it so that it hits a spot deep inside him, sending a pulse of desire each time he hits it, one that leaves Connor breathless and on edge. “Right there, yes. Keep… ah… keep going, just like that.”

“I got you, Con. I got you,” Hank says, keeping up the fast pace. He’s sweating, and Connor can guess his legs might be aching by now, but he keeps up with the stamina Connor knows he has. 

Their motions move them closer and closer to the mirror and, without having had the time to adjust position, Connor ends up with his chest against the glass, moaning wantonly as he sees his own face and body in the reflection, Hank’s face flushed behind him. The underside of his cock presses against the mirror and the combined sensations make him gasp before he thrusts forward, seeking friction against the cold glass, cock smearing his own precum against it.

That’s how he comes, eyes rolling back in his head as pleasure overtakes him and cum spurts out of his cock, sliding down the mirror as he ruts against it into his own spend. Hank fucks him hard through his orgasm as he clenches down, feeling the combination of lube and other men’s come still slicking his hole. “Hank,” he moans, completely blissed out as the waves of pleasure pass through him and letting out a broken moan as Hank reaches for his oversensitive cock, pumping it a few times before everything slows down. Then there’s a wave of what feels like cum filling his ass as Hank gives a few final thrusts, filling him fully like he’s never felt before.

They stay there another minute, both of them catching their breath. Hank slips out and a deluge of cum follows, leaking a stream down his thighs. If he hadn’t already come, that sight would have done him in.

“Do you need a hand?” Hank asks quietly.

Connor shakes his head. “I am capable of standing on my own. I just need a moment.” His processes have become disorganized and he needs a minute to manually restart a few of them before he can comfortably move from his current position. He reaches back to dip his fingers into the cum leaking out of him, sucking his fingers with a _pop, _and his analysis tells him what he suspected: Synthetic cum, the same kind as androids use. 

He shivers at that. Hank was prepared before he even came in, packing hard and with cum lube to boot, and it makes him feel that much sexier.

Hank keeps a hand on Connor’s arm until he’s ready to move, and he looks delicious like that, red-faced and sweating with cum dripping from his cock. “You good now?”

“Yeah.” He stands up straight and steps back from the mirror, taking a good look at himself--and the mess he’s made. He wrinkles his nose at that. “I should clean that up.”

“That would be the responsible thing to do, but I think we’re both guilty here.” Hank saunters over to the bench, holding up his jeans with one hand after they’d started to slip down earlier. “Holy shit, Connor.”

“That may have been my best experience of the night.” Connor scans him briefly and quirks an eyebrow in question. “You’re aroused again.”

“And I will be the rest of the fucking night, after all that.”

“I can suck you off, if you’d like. Not just your packer.”

Hank sucks in a breath. “Fuck. Yeah, that--no,” he says, holding up a finger as Connor starts to approach. “That sounds fantastic, but if we start something else, we could be at it all night.”

And oh, that interests him very much. “Would you be capable of that?”

“Maybe not _all _night, but I don’t tire that easy.” Hank licks his lips. “I’m gonna take some responsibility here and say we should probably talk. Figure out what we’re doing here. You know, one night stand or not.”

“That’s not unreasonable.” Connor glances at the state of his clothes and his next words are quieter. “I should go home and get changed before going out anywhere.”

Hank laughs. “No problem. Need a ride?”

“Please.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment or kudos if you enjoyed.
> 
> Find me on twitter @gildedfrost (18+)


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